Munic's Dilemma: A Classic SR Tale
by BatWingteenavenger
Summary: The son of a notorious fixer wants to win a big race fair and square. However, Daddy plans to have his son win and threatens to take a certain Racer out. Can Speed, Racer X, and a special friend help Tony before an even bigger threat is unleashed? R&R!
1. Introductions and threats

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except new characters, new cars, and the plot. Sue me and you will get nothing but paper and a blown gasket!

**A/N **I have no idea why I didn't publish this sooner since this is actually the very first Speed Racer fic I _**hand**_ wrote. Set in the animated universe sometime after Speed beats the Car Acrobats for the first time, this fic was written in the flavor of the cartoon series and will hopefully live up to that format as far as dialog and flow go. Well, let the madness BEGIN! Please review! XD

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The number five car streaked across the finish line way ahead of the other cars. Another victory for the young driver of the Mach 5. The fans were overjoyed as Speed Racer accepted the gleaming trophy with a grin and a wave. However there was a dark figure in the grandstands who was _not _celebrating. A slick man dressed in a black trench coat, dark glasses, and a wide-brimmed hat growled his displeasure and disappeared into the shadows. He took out a walkie-talkie and contacted his lackies.

"_Boys, get Tony's car ready for the cross-country race. I hear Racer and his team entered. From now until the race I want you to discourage them from participating by any means necessary. You have your orders. GET GOING!"_

**GOSPEEDGOSPEEDGOSPEEDGO**

Speed Racer zoomed around the practice track, his mind focused on the road and fused to the Mach 5. Even when Trixie was in the car with him, Speed's mind was focused (mostly) on his driving. He listened to his car the same way an equestrian listened to his mount. The engine purred as the skilled driver navigated an S curve. Brakefoot expertly pressed and released at the right moments as the Mach 5 exited the curve and headed back to where the rest of the Go Team waited. Sparky, Speed's mechanic and best friend, looked excited as the young driver reluctantly brought the car to a halt. Speed looked to his friend for the information that was always given at the end of a practice; his timing. Sparky readily provided the info.

"Wow, Speed! Fifteen seconds faster than last time! What a terrific run!"

"Thanks to the modifications you made to the suspension and brakes, Sparky. I don't know _what _Pops and I would do without you!"

Speed leaped out of the car with a flourish and landed in front of his navigator, who gushed at the young racer. Her name was Trixie Shimura, and she had had a crush on Speed Racer since preschool. Trixie was also Speed's anchor, and often times his rescuer (mostly from Pops!) not to mention the girl was an ace level spotter and pilot to boot. She was still hopelessly in love with Speed and got overly jealous if the young champion even glanced at another girl. Trixie threw her arms around Speed's neck and briefly hugged him.

"Oh, Speed! At this rate the Cross Country Race will be a shoe-in!"

"Maybe Trixie. We won't know until Pops gets here with the race map. Then I can practice on whatever terrain I'll encounter during the Mifune Cross Country Rally."

From the trunk of the Mach 5, four eyes narrowed in frustration, then the trunk exploded open and two small troublemakers emerged. Spritle and Chim-Chim; candy hounds and Racer family members, entered the scene. Spritle idolized his older brother and got extremely upset if anyone so much as _hinted _that Speed would lose a race—even if that person was Speed himself! In Spritle's mind, Speed Racer was already the greatest race car driver in the world and no amount of candy could change his mind. Stomping his foot, the youngest Racer folded his arms and demanded for all to hear:

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN MAYBE THE RACE WILL BE A SHOE-IN, SPEED?! If you're in the race, the other drivers won't even stand a chance and everyone knows it!" Spritle punched his brother's leg to punish him for doubting the blatant fact that he could not be beaten.

Speed grinned at his kid brother, glad that Spritle was too confident in his abilities as a driver that the thought of how dangerous the race was never crossed Spritle's mind.. Suddenly the roar of a familiar engine caught Speed's attention and the young driver turned toward the sound. A black and maroon car bearing the letter C pulled up next to the Mach 5 and the driver got out. Spritle, Sparky, and Trixie gasped in recognition—for this was Cobra Oiler, the older brother of Snake Oiler of the Car Acrobatic Team. Snake had died shortly after the Alpine Race in which his ignorance and lust for victory had caused him to crash, while Speed, blind as a silent bat, took the first place spot right out from under the Car Acrobats.

Since then the older Oiler had sworn personal revenge on Speed and took every opportunity to remind the young racer of that vow if they ever raced against each other. The older Oiler was out for blood and was becoming one of the dirtiest drivers in the world. Speed was too good a sport to fling any angry words at his rivals no matter how dirty they drove, so when Cobra announced that he was entered in the cross country race, Speed honestly wished him good luck. Cobra glared at his rival and snarled,

"Be careful what you wish for, Speed. Good luck for _me _would be them pulling your body out of the Mach 5 like we pulled Snake out of _his _car while you took the victory from us."

Trixie shuddered, and then her fiery temper made itself known as she remembered who was really responsible for that fateful crash.

"If you remember, Mr. Oiler, it was Snake's own fault that his car blew up and Speed _had _tried to warn him of the danger but he was too pigheaded to listen!"

"That doesn't change the fact that victory was stolen from us that day! If Speed had not entered then the Car Acrobats would have won and Snake would still be alive. I'm warning you, Speed stay clear or this race will be your last!"

Cobra drove off leaving rubber at Speed's feet. The young Racer chuckled softly to himself as Pops Racer drove up. _If I hadn't entered that race the Car Acrobats would have STILL lost because Racer X was in the race and HE would have won! _ Pops handed Speed the map and the two got to work discussing strategy.

**GOSPEEDGOSPEEDGOSPEEDGO**

In a glorious mansion not far from the practice track, billionaire Trace Munick and his son Tony 'Zinger' Munick are having a heated discussion over dinner. Trace has just revealed to Tony his devious plans for the upcoming race and his son is less than pleased by the news.

"I don't want your men on this, Father. It isn't right!"

"I don't care if it's not right, Tony! I want you to win and this is the only way you'll have a chance!"

"Father, Speed Racer is my friend and one of the few drivers I respect and he respects_ me _because I've always been an honest driver. Why do you want me to play dirty _NOW?_"

"Because I want this victory more than anything you could ever imagine! I have watched Speed Racer take first place from you for too long, Son and I want YOU to win this time."

"Then let me win fair and square, Father! I can't _bear _to race any other way!"

"With Speed behind the wheel of the Mach 5?! You won't have a chance. No, son, I'm sorry but this is the only way."

Tony flew from the room, out the door into the massive garage, climbed into his car—named the 'WindRunner'—and lay down with his head on the ebony steering wheel, and sobbed. Then a thought occurred to the young driver and a surge of hope coursed through his shattered psych. _I've got to warn Speed of my father's plans before it's too late! Speed's probably training for the race and so he'll most likely be at Cyprus Point—the Multi-Terrain track! _The WindRunner's engine roared to life and then the car shot out of the garage like an angry Thoroughbred.

The boy felt his father's eyes on his back as the sleek, black-and-orange Forvettillac roared off, but he kept on driving. _I'm gonna need some help. Father knows what I'm doing._ Tony swerved to the right and headed for an old garage that had been abandoned for years or so people thought.

Tony Munic knew otherwise.

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**Well, how was Chapter 1! Fun fact: The Forvettillac is a cross between a Ford GT, a Vett ****C5 Z06****, and a Cadillac CTS-V. No, it doesn't exist, not yet, but since I didn't want any companies sueing me I decided to make up the sickest vehicle I could imagine. Hope it rocks as much as YOU GUYS DO!! Thanks for reading and stay tuned 'cause there's DEFINITLY more to come! **

**Up next: The Car Magician!**


	2. The Car magician

**Disclaimer: **See first chapter.

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He was an orphan and the greatest racer in the world next to Racer X. Few people knew it because he rarely entered small, local races. He was a month younger than Speed Racer, with glass-blue eyes and jet black hair that spiked in the back and tapered bangs that hung over his eyes (think Yugi's style, but a lot tamer). His name was Rocket and he had a unique gift: he could _touch _a car and know instantly how powerful it was and what its capabilities were. He could sit in a racecar, and the moment the engine started up, he would _know _if there was the slightest thing wrong with it. Rocket had learned how to 'listen' and 'feel' a car through training with Racer X, then he'd taken the strategies and perfected them into an art other drivers referred to as 'whispering'.

Rocket was a friend to honest racers and a terror to dirty drivers. The young legend knew Tony Munick was one of the legitimate drivers even though Munick's father was a known fixer, so when Tony pulled in to the garage looking for help, Rocket offered his assistance readily. After Tony explained his dilemma, the Car Magician carefully and expertly ran his hands over and along the WindRunner. After running his fingertips over the sleek, black hood, the legend spoke while continuing his inspection.

"So, you want to win this race fair and square."

"Yes."

"In the WindRunner."

"Yes. What is it, Whisper?"

Rocket sighed deeply and shook his head.

"Sorry Zinger, but she's not up to it. Your father must have realized it too, that this baby's built for straight speedin', not cross country. She just doesn't have it in her. I'm sorry."

"Aren't there mods that you could make to her, Rocket? I want to win but if things don't go in my favor, _someone _is going to get hurt. I don't want that at all!"

Rocket patted the Forvettillac and grinned,

"Now you are talking _my _language, Munick. _Now _I can work. She'll be ready in time for you to pick her up and eat breakfast tomorrow. In the meantime, take the Rinock to Cyprus Point and warn Speed that your daddy is gunning for him. Then go ahead and take the Rinock for a spin. She handles exactly like the 'Runner will when I'm done tuning her, so get used to the config."

**GOSPEEDGOSPEEDGOSPEEDGO**

Speed was taking a break (his first in three hours) and was running scenarios in his mind for dealing with black ice, sand traps, and pesky reporters, when his peripherals caught movement to his left. Then, before the young driver could react, a very large fist lifted him off the ground by his collar! Speed tried to yell for help but all that came out was a strangled squeal. The boy then realized that the giant held him by his throat and not by his collar. _I wish Pops hadn't insisted that I practice alone! Sparky stayed but he had to go get lunch because SPRITLE ate the lunch Mom packed for us! _Speed struggled harder but the big man laughed and increased his grip. The boy panicked as his hold on reality began to loosen and his struggles grew weaker as the world grew dark around him.

Within minutes, Speed Racer went limp and the man carried his victim to the waiting Mach 5. The giant laid the unconscious, half-throttled driver across the crimson seats and taped a note to the victim's shirt. Then, the attacker left as silently as he had appeared.

Five minutes later, Sparky arrived. He looked at the Mach 5 and grinned, "Right where I left you." He looked at Speed, whom he figured was asleep. "_NOT _where I left _you._ SPEED! Wake up!" Sparky yanked Speed's head up, then gasped in horror as he realized that the young driver was _more _than simply dozing.

"_**Speed?!**_ Speed snap out of it! SPEED!!" the faithful mechanic frantically tried to coax his friend back to wakefulness. Finally, the driver's eyes flew open, and not knowing anything but the fact that he was being pinned down by strong hands, Speed began to struggle against Sparky.

"Whoa! Take it easy, Speed! It's me, Sparky. Easy!" the struggling stopped abruptly and Speed began to relax, until he untaped the note secured to his shirt and read it out loud:

"_**Mammoth will finish the job if you even place. This is—**_"

"—A serious threat, Speed." finished a new voice. The racer and the mechanic turned towards the sound. Speed grinned shakily in greeting and Sparky greeted the newcomer verbally.

"Tony Zinger! What are _you_ doing here? Preparing for the big race?"

"That's part of it, Sparky. I'm here to warn Speed that my father is gunning for him, but I guess I'm too late. I'm sorry, Speed. It's kind of my fault you got attacked and will continue to be attacked until the race is over."

Speed held up a yellow gloved hand, "Wait a sec! How is MY getting nearly throttled to death _your _fault? You've always raced fair and square so I have a hard time believing that you had anything to do with—"

"I entered the cross country race, Speed. My father wants _me _to win but you're too good a racer and he knows it. _I _will race fair and square no matter what, but my father _won't_. Mammoth has hurt more competitors over less than winning. He will _KILL _you if my father tells him to."

"So, what do you want me to do, Zinger? I hope you don't expect me to throw this race, because you _know _how I feel about doing _that_."

"No, Speed. You know I wouldn't ask you to do anything like that. All I ask is that you be careful from now on. Don't even go outside by yourself, even to wash the Mach 5! My father knows where you live so even your house won't be a safe haven. Don't worry, your family will be safe. My father knows enough about you that he'll leave them alone. One more thing; could you maybe. . .run the track with me? Please?"

Speed Racer grinned and hopped into the waiting Mach 5 and started the engine with a grin.

"Let's see what you got, Zinger!"

"Oh, you are so very ON, Racer!"

- -

The two racers sped off down the practice track, for the moment both forgetting about the threat as engines roared and driver and car became as one. Tony eased the Rinock over the sand traps seconds after Speed made the transition from sand to slush, gritting his teeth as the electric blue car shadowed the Mach 5 curve for curve. Tony knew that under normal circumstances Speed would have deployed his Grip Tires for better traction, but since this was a test of skill and not speed the grip tires stayed in their sheathes. This proved to be a disadvantage to the driver of the Mach 5, since his competitor's car was built for cross country, giving Tony a slight advantage and he passed the white car with an innocent shrug and a grin. Speed quickly regained the lead as the mud gave way to an asphalt S curve, giving Tony his trademark, good-natured wink and wave as he sailed past. Tony laughed and promptly passed Speed again only to be caught by the Mach 5 on the C curve of grass.

For a moment, both cars were neck-and-neck as they rounded the final turn and entered the Black Stretch. The stretch was one big piece of slick, 'black ice' and was a mile long. Halfway down the stretch, Speed suddenly spun out of control and swerved into Tony's path, barely missing the Rinock's front fender as he fought to bring the white car back into the race. Speed's efforts only made matters worse and the young driver was forced to use the grip tires. Once the Mach 5 was safely running, however, Speed retracted the grips and resumed his pursuit of the Rinock, his jaw set in determination and his mind set on finishing this mock race even if he didn't win.

As the two cars crossed the finish line it was Tony who was the victor, racing across the line a split second before Speed Racer. The Mach 5 was literally a hairsbreadth away from crossing first when Tony gave the Rinock one final push, bringing the car in first place.

- - -

A man watched the mock race through a pair of binoculars with a grin on his face. "Hey, Trace, I think ol' Rocket is at it again. Your kid is driving the Rinock and just beat Racer fair and square!"

"_The Rinock?! Where's the 'Runner?!"_

"Who cares? Boss, you're missin' the point. Tony just BEAT Racer in a MOCK RACE! This may be your link to Rocket! Give me the word and I'll bug the car. You could have another driver on a leash in two days."

"Do it.I'll take it from there."

"With pleasure!"


	3. Will He Race?

**Disclaimer**: Don't own a thing except for what was stated in the previous chapters. DEAL.

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_You can take the one thing I have left  
_

_I'd give it all away for so much less  
_

_Can even take the heart inside my chest.  
_

_And you can take the one thing I have left  
_

_Beat me to the ground & take my breath__But you can't take who I am_

_Woah, woah._

--Hawk Nelson—

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The next morning, Tony roared into Rocket's garage and was amazed at what he saw:

There sat the gleaming Forvettillac, repainted and supercharged. In other words, the WindRunner was completely tripped out. The black base had been replaced with an electric dark blue that seemed to glow under its own power. The orange 'scorpion' design that ran from the hood to the back fender was now a glowing white Japanese dragon that was outlined in navy blue and black. The hood now sported cooling vents and from the sides of the car sprouted twin pipes. The WindRunner had been lowered, there was a spoiler on the back, and the windows were tinted in pitch.

Tony whistled and ran his hand along the 'Runner's hood. "She's _beautiful!_" he breathed to himself.

"She sure is. Under that hood is the famed V-T8X engine. This baby's capable of speeds over 800mph over any type of terrain. Built that engine myself. What do you think?"

"I. . .well. . . Wow! Rocket, you know I can't pay you enough for this!"

"Aw, don't insult me, Zinger! I did this because you needed help so you owe me nothing." The Car Magician suddenly stiffened, then raised his hands in the universal sign of surrender. Tony looked to where the legend was looking and groaned in recognition.

"What are _you _doing here, father?"

Trace Munic motioned for his men to lower their weapons then walked behind Rocket and put a hand on the boy's shoulder in a friendly manner, then said in a pitying way that did not mask the man's sleaziness or cunning,

"I'm here to offer this poor, wretched soul a job, Tony. You see, Rocket, we've had our eyes on you for the past several years, and we could definitely use someone of your talents."

"You're slime, Munic. I don't work for slime." Rocket spat, jerking away in discust. Trace only chuckled and shook his head.

"Well there's always racing, I suppose. I could have my secretary draw up the paperwork."

"I don't _drive _for slime either. I heard you actually tried reeling in Speed Racer a while back but like a true driver he refused. What makes you think that _I_ would jump at your offer?!"

Munic's eyes grew hard and the light tone disappeared from his voice as his fury erupted.

"Speed Racer is a fool and if you don't enter the cross-country race, he'll be a _DEAD _fool!"

Tony gasped and Rocket was already starting to seethe. _Does this idiot think I'm a fool?! I know what he's trying to pull but he's an amateur if he thinks he can snare me that easily!_ Rocket grit his teeth and growled in a low tone of hotty defiance,

"You were going to kill him anyway whether I entered the race or not, so why would it matter whether I drove in the race or not?"

Munic chuckled, "You're wrong, boy. We would let Racer live provided that he throw the race and let Tony win."

"You also know that he would _never _throw a race even if his life depended on it!"

"He made his choice! Now it's your turn to choose. All I ask is that you enter the race under my colors with Tony. Do that, and I promise that Speed Racer will live to participate in the race as well."

Rocket growled in frustration, and then his shoulders slumped slightly. _Dag nabbit, that bastard's got me! Well, if I must go through Hell, I may as well give myself some Fire insurance. This isn't over and I'm not going without a fight!_

"Fine, you win. I'll race with Tony on one condition, slime bucket."

"Amuse me."

"I race under _no_ man's colors. I'm independent and I'd like to stay that way."

"Very well. Pleasure doing business with you, young Rocket."

"Whatever. Take your loyal pets and get lost. Tony and I've got work to do."

The newcomers left and Rocket began to inspect the Rinock. Tony looked at his friend curiously.

"What are you looking for, Rocket?"

The Car Magician held up a small device that blinked red and grimaced as he showed Tony,

"This is a tracer. The garage is no longer safe. We need to move to the Hangar."

The teen legend crushed the device and motioned for Tony to follow him.

**GOSPEEDGOSPEEDGOSPEEDGO**

Two figures were on a mission as they snuck into the dark room. Crawling on all fours, they nearly got caught as the Enemy patrolled the area. In a dark corner, the Boss sat snoring in a lounge throne. The Cootie Queen was nowhere to be found, but her prey guarded his faithful steed in the storage part of the bunker. "The mission must be completed or all is lost, Private!" hissed one of the Bandits to his cohort. The Enemy joined the Boss on the Throne of Oblivion. Now was the chance to strike! The two figures dove for their targets, only to be stopped by the Boss's bellow!

"SPRITLE!!"

Realizing the mission was a failure, the lead Bandit screamed the only option available:

"RETREAT! CHIM-CHIM RETREAT!!"

Retreat they did, back to base where they hid in their tent and waited for the next opportunity to arise. The chimp clock on the wall read 12:30am.

No wonder the Boss was so cranky!

**GOSPEEDGOSPEEDGOSPEEDGO**

The morning sun shone brightly through the windows of the Racer garage, bathing the cold room in its warm, welcoming glow. From the seats of the Mach 5 rose Speed Racer, still half asleep. His mind was awake and alert but his body failed to recognize that morning meant breakfast and breakfast meant fuel in the form of Mom's special pancakes. Perhaps his body knew that after the fun of the morning meal had subsided, the hard work began and the young Racer would unintentionally train himself to exhaustion.

Whatever the reasons, Speed's family recognized a change in the teen driver's physical appearance while he moseyed around the kitchen getting ready for breakfast. Mom Racer was the first to question her son after witnessing Speed nearly walk full-speed into the table before finding his seat.

"What's the matter, Speed? Did you stay up all night studying the map for the big race?"

The young driver shook his head and dove into his breakfast. Trixie giggled and passed her boyfriend the milk.

"Maybe he's too tired to remember _why _he's tired!"

Pops Racer rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he watched his middle son. _I haven't seen Speed this drained in the morning before. The only Racer I've seen like this is my older son, Rex who left home many years ago. It happened when Fuzz Luckey's men threatened to take Rex out if he didn't quit winning races. I wonder if. . .NO! Speed would have told us if someone had threatened him. Wouldn't he have?_

"Speed, is there something you want to tell us?"

"Hm? No, Pops. I'm just a little slow this morning, that's all. I must have slept wrong again."

"Are you sure, Son?" Pops fixed a no-nonsense glare around the room, letting it stop when it reached Speed's honest, blue eyes. The young Racer hung his head and sighed in defeat.

"I've been threatened recently. They want me to throw the race but I just can't. I was up late thinking about it and when I got up this morning my body was so stiff I could barely move."

Pops was furious and blew a gasket.

"WHO TOLD YOU TO THROW THE RACE?! WHO THREATENED YOU?! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON WHOEVER—"

"Calm down, Pops! It isn't as bad as all that. Zinger's dad wants _him _to win the race this time."

"Tony's father wants you to throw the race? Tony's your friend, Speed! Why not let him win, just this once?" Trixie knew her question would only make Speed angry but it was an honest question and a fair one. To her surprise, Speed's reaction was calm.

"You know very well why I can't do that, Trixie. It isn't right or fair. Besides, I think Tony could beat me fair and square. We had a mock race and the Rinock won fairly."

Pops gasped, "The _Rinock?!_ Speed, do you know who that car really belongs to?!"

"From the look on your face, I'll bet it was a famous driver!"

"Not just a famous driver but a brilliant mechanic and designer. They call him The Car Magician."

"You mean--?"

"That's right. The famous 'Whisper' Rocket is helping your friend Tony and he may even be entering the Cross-Country race."

"That would be something, Pops, because they say it's rare for Rocket to enter local races like this one. If Rocket is participating then I've got to keep training!"

"What about the threat, son?"

"What about it? It's not like it's the first time a fixer has tried to get me out of a race. I'll race like I always do and if Tony wins then I'll be very proud of him. He deserves an honest win and he is a good driver."

Sparky chuckled, "Then let's get started!"


End file.
